


I'm coming over.

by vitasoy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, washio is a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitasoy/pseuds/vitasoy
Summary: from: Konoha Akinori [7:57pm]its nothing dwaiBut Washio could immediately sense something was wrong. And it was most definitely not nothing.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Comments: 18
Kudos: 66





	I'm coming over.

Washio stepped into the chilly night, hair still damp from his shower at the gymnasium. He dug out his phone from his hoodie pocket and scrolled through, catching up and responding to any missed messages. 

  


> to: Konoha Akinori [07:46pm]  
>  I just finished with practice.
> 
> from: Konoha Akinori [07:47pm]  
>  ok

  


Washio could immediately sense something was wrong. For Konoha, a serial multi-bubble texter, a response as curt as “ok” definitely raised alarm bells. Even when Washio sends something as mundane as a brief update, Konoha always showed genuine interest in even the smallest details of his day. 

“did u stuff that nasty wing spiker of urs lots today? >:D”

“how was syncing up with the new setter?”

“ehhh u stayed later than usual today… dont push urself too hard >:(”

“are u tired? did u stretch properly?”

Or even a basic and open-ended “how did it go?”, just to show his care. Those were the responses Washio had come to expect.

  


> to: Konoha Akinori [07:49pm]  
>  ? What’s wrong?
> 
> to: Konoha Akinori [7:53pm]  
>  Hello? Akinori?

  


More and more alarms were going off in Washio’s head, Konoha never takes this long to respond, especially at this time of day.

  


> from: Konoha Akinori [7:57pm]  
>  its nothing dwai

  


Washio huffed, how could he be expected to not worry? He stopped in his path, the familiar street leading back to his EJP provided apartment, and pivoted with a new destination in mind. 

  


> to: Konoha Akinori [7:58pm]  
>  I’m coming over.

  


————————

  


By the time Washio arrived at Konoha’s apartment, a pint of close-to-melting Häagen-Dazs green tea ice cream in hand, it was already 8:43pm. He let himself in through the keyless password-protected front door, the most recent upgrade that Konoha had installed. Despite Washio’s protests, Konoha had insisted on setting the password to Washio’s birthday, since “using his own birthday would be too obvious and he wouldn’t be able to remember anything else”.

Washio swung open the door and was greeted by darkness. The small apartment looked vacant; there were no lights, no sounds from a TV or computer, no shuffling of feet, nothing at all. Removing his sneakers at the genkan, Washio entered the apartment and slowly closed the door behind him. The click of the lock echoed through the quiet apartment.

Washio briefly considered that Konoha might be out at this time and that he had made this trip for nothing, but on a Thursday night, there really wasn’t anywhere else he could be, especially not without telling Washio about it beforehand. Besides, the same pair of beat up sneakers that Konoha wore to anywhere except for work had been sitting in the genkan, further dispelling Washio’s doubts.

“Akinori?” Washio called out into the darkness. After a few seconds, he was greeted by a barely audible grumble. 

Washio sighed, “Why don’t you have any lights on?” he felt his way over the walls until he felt a switch, flicking them on and bathing the entranceway with fluorescent lights. 

Another grumble.

“Where are you?” Washio made his way through the apartment, turning on lights as he went, remembering to put the ice cream in the freezer as he passed the kitchen. But Konoha was nowhere to be found. Not sitting on a kitchen counter, not slumped on the sofa, not eating at the dining table, not passed out on the bathroom floor. 

Another grumble.

And it came from the only room left. Washio stood outside Konoha’s bedroom door, hoping that it wouldn’t be locked when he turns the knob. It wasn’t, and Washio quietly breathes a sigh of relief. 

The lights were off, and when Washio turned them on, he was greeted by no Konoha yet again. The room was small, with only a bed in one corner and a closet in another, there was nowhere to hide even if you tried. 

Washio was beyond confused, where the hell could the guy be? 

“Hello?” he tried again.

The same grumble responded, the sound coming from right in front of him. The mess of blankets on Konoha’s bed shifted.

_Ah._

Washio carefully kneels down onto the wooden floor in front of the bed, eyes level with the lump on the bed. “Akinori, what are you doing in there?” He lifted a corner of the blanket and looked underneath. _Found you._

Just as suspected, Konoha was curled up under the sheets, eyes screwed shut and hugging a can of Pringles. His phone laid discarded to the side. Washio placed his arms on the bed and rested his chin on top, holding the blanket up with his head. He looked inquisitively at Konoha, who half-heartedly brought another chip to his mouth without opening his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Konoha chewed slowly, as if contemplating, but ultimately responded with nothing more than a groan. His hand went to pick up another chip.

“I brought ice cream.” Washio informed him, hoping to get a bit more of a response. A crease in Konoha’s brow relaxed, showing his approval, but he offered nothing more. 

“Did something happen at work?” Washio tried again.

Another chip. Still nothing.

Washio sighed, giving up on pestering him. “Ok, you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.” He shifted, about to head to the kitchen to grab the ice cream as further bait. Just before he emerged from under the covers, he felt a tug on his sleeve and stopped. Konoha had cracked open one eye, just barely, but his grip on Washio’s hoodie was unfaltering. 

“Stay.” he breathed, barely a whisper. 

Washio suddenly lost all the air in his lungs and his brain barely registered his own response. “Okay.” he had said, gently and delicately, as if a sound too loud would break the man in front of him. 

Konoha hummed in satisfaction, closing his eyes again but not releasing his grip on Washio. Washio was still concerned and beyond confused, but looking at Konoha’s small form, he couldn’t help but soften. His hair, a bit longer than Konoha usually liked to keep it, draped messily across his forehead. The dirty blonde colour had darkened to almost brown due to winter’s lack of sunlight. His lashes fanned over his cheeks, but he looked anything but peaceful. His mouth was glued in a perpetual frown, only letting up to intake another chip. Every few seconds he would grimace or furrow his eyebrows, as if reliving whatever had upset him in the first place. His cheeks were squished against the bed and Washio resisted the urge to pinch them. Instead, he smoothly plucked the Pringles can out of Konoha’s grip, ignoring his whining protest, and climbed onto the bed to join him.

Silently, with no indication other than the creaking of the bed under his added weight, Washio got settled and wrapped himself around Konoha, pulling the blonde into his embrace. He stroked Konoha’s back lazily with one hand and felt Konoha slowly relaxing, nuzzling his face into Washio’s chest. 

Washio pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, continuing his hand’s motions. “You don’t have to tell me, but whenever you want to, I’ll be here, ok?” Konoha always told him everything, and Washio worried what could have happened to result in this level of secrecy. 

Konoha hummed as acknowledgement, and for a few moments Washio just held him, using all his effort to stop his brain from overthinking the situation. 

_He’s fine. He’ll be fine. Everything’s fine._

“Tatsuki.” Konoha said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes?” Washio responded, maybe a little too fast. He pulled back a bit to look down and examine Konoha’s face, looking for any clues that could indicate his state. Thankfully, Konoha actually met his eyes this time. His olive eyes were smiling, though his mouth wasn’t. The frown and grimace from earlier melted away, leaving his features relaxed, content. Washio let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. _He’s ok. Good._

“You shouldn’t have come all the way over here, it’s late and you have practice so early tomorrow. You need to get your rest.” Konoha reprimanded. 

Washio chuckled, even when he’s moping, of course Konoha would still have the energy to lecture him. “Something was clearly up. Besides, you didn’t stop me.”

“How was I supposed to know you were just gonna show up like that?” Konoha protested indignantly. 

“I texted.”

“Oh... I didn’t see that.”

“Hm. Clearly.” Washio pulled him close again.

Konoha jabbed his stomach lightly as retaliation. Then, after a pause, he continued with a tone more solemn than before, “Tatsuki.”

Washio hummed, continuing the strokes on his back and waited patiently for him to continue.

“I know you want to know… but I don’t think I can tell you.”

Washio frowned immediately, and was glad that Konoha couldn’t see his expression at that time. He didn’t want to put any pressure on him to tell, but he couldn’t help but be a little hurt. Did Konoha not trust him enough? “That’s ok,” he reassured, “don’t worry about what I want, do whatever makes you most comfortable. That’s all I want.”

“But I feel bad, I’m worrying you. It’s really nothing you don’t need to worry.”

“It’s clearly not nothing if you’re not even able to say it.” Washio winced as soon as the sentence left his mouth. Maybe that was a little too passive aggressive.

“It’s really nothing though! I just _can’t_.”

Washio didn’t want to push Konoha more, so he stayed quiet, opting to simply nod his head instead.

Suddenly, Konoha sat up, tenting the blanket with his head. Washio followed, watching him with curiosity.

“Ok,” Konoha huffed. Even under the blanket, with only slivers of light seeping through, Washio could see Konoha’s eyes glimmer with determination. “I’m gonna say it.”

Washio nodded again, “If you want to, sure.”

Konoha squeezed his eyes shut once more, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, as if concentrating on forcing the words to come out. His shoulders were tense and hands were clutched into fists. Washio reached for them and cradled both his hands in his own, slowly coaxing them open. He ran his thumbs lightly over Konoha’s palms, following the lines and grazing the callouses there.

Washio’s anticipation built as the silence persisted, but he chose to focus on Konoha’s hands as the blonde continued grinding his teeth. Then, out of nowhere, Konoha flops back onto the bed again, writhing as he whined, “I just can’t!”

Washio could do nothing but watch as Konoha went through the cycle of “I’m gonna say it!” and “I can’t!” again and again, sitting up then lying down each time. At least, it shouldn’t be anything too catastrophic considering how energetic Konoha was. That was enough to reassure Washio.

“Ok! For real this time! I’ll do it!” Konoha exclaimed, sitting up for the nth time. He stared at a spot on the bed right in front of Washio with conviction. He slapped both his cheeks, sucked in a breath, and began, “It’s really nothing, because I only got upset…” 

His mouth clamped shut again, and Washio wondered how many years this process would last.

“I only got upset because...” Konoha tried again, “because I was emailing a colleague some files but I accidentally also attachedoneofthosestupidreactionmemes.” his words sped up, as if they were a foul taste that he was desperate to spit out. 

Washio waited for more, but Konoha said nothing else. Instead, he scooched closer and wrapped his arms around Washio, hiding his face in his shoulder and letting out yet another groan.

_What the fuck._

“So… that’s it?” 

“It’s so embarrassing!” Konoha whined again, “but yeah I told you it was nothing…”

“You made me come all the way here for that?” Washio asked, exasperated. He would have been able to find the heart to be more irked by Konoha’s overdramatic reaction had he not taken this exact moment to start climbing onto Washio’s lap. 

Konoha leaned back, searching Washio’s face for any signs of genuine annoyance. Satisfied from coming up empty, Konoha continued, “Well I didn’t _make_ you, not my fault you’re so whipped for me!” 

Washio poked Konoha on the ribs for that statement, who flinched away, snickering a half-hearted protest. He encircled Konoha’s waist and pulled him closer. Washio would have to wake up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning to make practice, but he didn’t want to think about that as he sat under the mess of blankets, entangled with a Konoha who was, thankfully, no longer sulking. Washio smiled fondly to himself, mindlessly fiddling with the hem of Konoha’s shirt. _Whatever will I do with you._

“I didn’t think that you of all people would mope like Bokuto.”

“Huh?! NO? Take that back right now! Tatsuki!”

Konoha jumped away, mortified at the accusation. Washio chuckled. He didn’t need to worry, after all. Konoha was back to normal, and all is well.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far, thank you for reading!!  
> this was inspired by events on the twitter role play accounts for [ washio ](https://twitter.com/washitats) and [ konoha](https://twitter.com/konoha_akinorii)  
> you can find me on twitter [@getoworld](https://twitter.com/getoworld) :))


End file.
